


Distance

by thorduna



Series: Oneshots [10]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 05:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1593074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorduna/pseuds/thorduna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor and Loki both know how to adapt. Midgard has fun technology to offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distance

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short thing I wrote a long time ago for a friend and since I submitted it to her tumblr, it wasn't on my blog nor on here and I recently stumbled upon it and decided I liked it enough to bring it back.
> 
> Set vaguely post-avengers, but it could be comics-verse, could be post-dark world when Loki reveals himself and leaves Asgard. After all, it's just smut.

A shrill, short chime tears Thor from his light slumber and he looks to his bedside table in surprise. He recognizes the sound immediately, of course; it's a text message notification. He's owned a cellphone for almost a year now, having been given one by smirking, gleefully sceptical Tony, but the thing is - he only uses it to get in touch with his fellow Avengers (or better yet, it lets them contact _him_ easily) when he is away on his own. Right now, it's the middle of the night and he is in his room in the Avengers mansion, along with almost the whole team. This is where his confusion comes from. Who could possibly be texting him?

 

_Hello brother. Asleep?_

 

Thor looks at the glowing screen for a moment and then sighs, propping his pillows against the headboard and finding a comfortable half sitting position before he even begins contemplating his response.

 

He's oddly unperturbed by this. He has adapted to mortal technology because his allies are mortal. It only makes sense that Loki would undergo the same adjustment. He has allies too, mortal villains that are eager to carry out their plans with the aid of godly power. Loki hardly ever complies with this, but it doesn't seem to stop others from trying again and again, leaving the Avengers rather busy. He doesn't pause to wonder where Loki acquired his cellphone number. It's _Loki_ after all.

 

_Not anymore. Is there something you require?_

 

He sends the message, but his fingers hover.

 

 _In the realms of possibility,_ he adds.

 

_How quaint of you to be so cautious._

 

Thor has the feeling that this could drag on beyond comfort.

 

 _The perks of written communication,_ he responds, hoping his answer will be neutral enough.

 

 _You type quickly._ Coming from Loki, it sounds like a compliment. Thor shuffles his legs under the covers, sleep gone from him and he thinks of his reply. Turns out it will not be too hard as Loki quickly sends another message, this time with a clear question.

 

_Does your device have an inbuilt camera and are you familiar with its use?_

 

There is something completely novel about this benign conversation. He and Loki only ever spoke to each other, maybe not always face to face (Thor distinctly remembers being confined to his rooms as a child and Loki keeping him company on the other side of the door, but even then they could hear each other), but it was always vocal. What has just transpired between them is surreal – it's new and familiar all the same. The best thing Thor can liken it to is the short words exchanged in between sparring. Utilitarian sentences spoken calmly before a display of anticipated violence. No meanings, just practicalities. _All right brother? Another bout? Let's move over there, the ground is too uneven here. Let me switch my blade. Do you want water?_

 

This isn't quite the same, but it is similar enough and deep down Thor is pleased. At this point, anything is better than screaming arguments and bitter words whispered harshly with the clear aim to hurt.

 

 _It does and I am_ , he types.

 

There is a pause then, longer than before. When the message comes, it is devoid of any text and he clicks on it curiously. It's a photograph coming from Loki's device to Thor's.

 

He doesn't blush, but he can't prevent his mouth from opening in shock.

 

There is no doubt in his mind that it is Loki, even if the frame only captures a body from lower stomach to upper thighs. And everything in between – a hard cock lying flat against a pale belly held at the root firmly by a hand. Thor recognizes it all perfectly.

 

 _Your turn,_ comes a following message, startling Thor badly.

 

 _For what purpose?_ he replies stubbornly.

 

The response comes in pictorial form once more and this time, the photograph is in a significantly lesser quality. The outline of Loki's hand is but a blur as it touches his length. Thor knows perfectly what it means. He gives in.

 

He kicks the covers away from his body and slides down a little on his pillows. He sleeps in the nude as always so there is no clothing to get rid of. It then takes him a while to get the camera set up and ready; he didn't lie when he said he knew how to use it, but he feels a certain trepidation and it makes his fingers stiff. He strokes himself with one hand, his flesh hardening with a speed that exposes just how affected he is by Loki's game, and readies the phone with the other, snapping a picture and deeming it good enough on the first try. His cock is in the foreground, focus is on its slightly reddened head and his legs disappear into the dark where the camera's little flash light didn't reach. He has never sent an image before, but it's easy to do and as soon as it goes out, he groans a little to himself. This could end badly. He wonders if Loki means to blackmail him with the material he just acquired, though he isn't really sure how could his cock shame him.

 

There is yet again no word from his brother, only image. The angle is almost the same, but the view of most of Loki's belly is obstructed by the underside of his thigh that he has raised far enough to grant his hand access behind his balls. His index and middle finger are buried deeply in his hole while his cock is straining above, flushed and hard.

 

 _Show me how you come,_ Loki writes while Thor is still marvelling at the picture. He doesn't hesitate. Keeping the last image open on the screen, he trains his eyes to it while working firmly on his hardness with precise strokes. It's not difficult to imagine replacing Loki's fingers with his own cock. He forms a firm passage by his fists and thinks of the delicious resistance of Loki's body and the most rewarding pleasure when he finally slips past it. It would be hot and sweet and _his_. For a moment, his rhythm is almost ruined by a sudden bitter desire to have Loki by his side, in this bed instead of lost to him somewhere on Midgard with tiny images as the only connection between them. But he persists, hurriedly opening the camera once again as he remembers Loki's request. Closing his eyes, he conjures the image of his brother, beautiful and wanting, reaching out for him, welcoming him. It's a miracle that he doesn't fail to push the button as he comes, lost as he is in the fantasy. He squeezes himself through the orgasm, tugging at his cock until it is too sensitive and snaps away some more, capturing the white come that coats his legs. Even the first picture he took is good, he finds out when he checks, his cock enlarged to its limits, coloured angry red and stained with a drop of come. He is generous and sends three pictures in rapid succession and wipes himself clean, lying back down as he waits for Loki's reaction.

 

His reward is more than satisfying – it's a video. He plays it and ducks in shock, sneaking a guilty look at the door; the sound was too loud and unmistakably Loki's moan filled his room. He is so impatient to watch it that he can hardly find the correct buttons to lower the volume. Finally he does and stares at the screen fascinated. It's only half a minute long, but it captures perfectly the peak of Loki's own orgasm. There are no fingers penetrating Loki, instead there is a silvery top of some toy wedged between his cheeks and the hand that doesn't hold the phone strokes Loki's cock until he seizes up and spills. Thor plays the video three times and hardens again. He ignores the erection, but focuses instead on a message. He isn't too sure what to say now. _Come to me, I need you_ , he wants to say. _I love you._

 

In the end, he simply types _thank you._

 

He has to wait almost full five minutes before his phone chimes again and in the meantime, he imagines Loki, with red cheeks, sticky with come, wet with lubricant, trying to come up with words to say. Or to write. Blasted, blessed midgardian devices.

 

_I will be seeing you, brother._

 


End file.
